


Dreams of Skyblue

by Anonymous



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 20:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17087552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sandalphon visits a dying Belial after Lucilius' legacy has been put to an end.





	Dreams of Skyblue

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the theory that Belial loved Lucilius and is doing this to honor his last will (and for revenge). 
> 
> This is my first time writing either of these characters so please forgive me for any mischaracterization, especially since I decided to go with a less... raunchy Belial.

The shrine of Canaan, once bathed in a pale blue hue, now steeps in the color of rust. Belial can see an endless expanse of red sky before him through the collapsed walls, and on the horizon gleams a tiny beacon of the setting sun.

 

What a lovely place to fade from existence, he thinks, propped up against a pile of rubble with wings broken and tattered. He prepares to close his eyes for the last time, that is, until a presence makes itself known, borrowed radiance masked over an earthy and warm aura. Belial pulls his lips into a weak grin and greets the Supreme Primarch.

 

“How kind of you to pay a dying angel a visit.” 

 

“.........” Sandalphon stares at him with furrowed brows and a grim frown, and if Belial still had the will, he’d make a  _ flattering _ remark about how the primarch would look so much lovelier making  _ other  _ expressions.

 

“Why did you do this?” He asks accusingly, eyes scrutinizing him as if trying to figure him out, and it almost makes Belial laugh because to him, the reason had always been so simple. 

 

Just as Sandalphon remembers a sunlit grove and the aroma of coffee, Belial remembers a scolding voice among the song of cicadas. 

 

“Because of love.” 

 

He sees something shift in Sandalphon’s expression, a complicated slew of emotions, but Belial doesn’t need to examine each and every one. He already knows that in the depths of the primarch’s heart, he  _ understands.  _

 

“What will you do now?” 

 

Belial almost laughs at the question, his broken wings shift against the dusty floor as he lurches with a wide grin. Lucilius’ legacy has been put to rest, permanently, and when Belial fought his last desperate battle, he could hear the voice of the Astral speaking to him one last time. 

 

_ You’ve done well.  _

 

In the thousands of years he'd spent with Lucilius, Belial had never heard such sincere words of praise, especially not for utter failure. He almost wants to pretend that it was Lucilius’ way of telling him to rest, that enough is enough. 

 

“I’ve been dismissed of my purpose. There’s nothing left to do but die quietly.”

 

Yet another silence passes between them, and this time Belial is too tired to keep his eyes open. With a quiet exhale, he makes one last request to ease the dull ache of his core. 

 

“Hey, Sandy. Won’t you grant me a pleasant dream before I go?” He doesn’t expect the primarch to relent, but he does, of course he does, because if there was anyone who understood how he felt… It would be this perfectly flawed angel. 

 

Sandalphon kneels in front of him, cups his face in his hands and pulls him into a gentle embrace. Belial can hear the comforting hum of the primarch’s core, and allows it to lull him into a blissful dream, one that he knows he won’t ever wake from. 

  
  
***  
  
  


_ “Belial, enough toying with insects.”  _

 

_ Ignoring the harsh scolding from Lucilius, Belial remains kneeled in front of the tree trunk and prods at a freshly molted cicada.  _

 

_ “Look, Faa-san. Aren’t they so soft and vulnerable? Like angels newly hatched from their cradle.”  _

 

_ Lucilius tightens his lips and glares down at Belial from where he stands in the shade. Belial knows that he dislikes the sticky heat of summer, and dislikes seeing his creation covered in dirt and sweat even more.  _

 

_ “You’re the primarch of cunning, a facet of knowledge. It’s unbefitting of you to be kneeling in dirt.”  _

 

_ “But Faa-san, I just love getting hot and sweaty- ah!” A quick thwack to the head with a staff quickly shuts him up, and while the strike wasn’t particularly hard or punishing, Belial makes a show of rubbing his head and smirking up at Lucilius with tears in his eyes.  _

 

_ “Come. We have work to do.” Lucilius turns towards the shaded halls and walks away, leaving Belial to chase after his back eagerly for whatever plans the Astral has concocted today.  _

 

_ Lately Lucilius has been thinking of something large, the ultimate act of defiance against the Creator, and the thought of it makes Belial swell with warmth. His master, his Lucilius with the skies in his hands, so blessed with knowledge and power, yet nothing could ever quell his rebellious heart.  _

 

_ Belial loved that. _

 

_ He’d follow that heart into the Crimson Horizon… and gladly give up his own. _

 

***

 

The dreams ends… And when Belial opens his eyes, he finds himself sitting in a white wicker chair, placed at a table set in a shaded grove. In a moment of confusion he gazes around to see swaying branches, green grass, and soft clouds against skyblue. 

 

Finally, his eyes settle on Sandalphon, who quietly sips from a cup of coffee in front of him. That is when Belial realizes that his body no longer hurts, that his core is no longer cracked and dying, but something within him aches all the same. 

 

“How cruel of you to wake me from such a lovely dream, Sandy. Why not let a purposeless angel die in peace?” The teasing lilt of his voice portrays his usual attitude, but he knows that Sandalphon can hear the pain beneath. 

 

Sandalphon sets the cup down, eyes lowered to the dark liquid in serious contemplation, but when he speaks it’s with all the authority of the Supreme Primarch. 

 

“If you’re going to throw away your life, then give it to me. I will give you a new purpose, until you can find your own.” The Supreme Primarch stands, his brilliant white wings spreading wide to encompass the space between them, and with wide eyes Belial stares up at an outstretched hand. 

 

He manages to laugh, but finds that there is no bitterness in it, despite thinking that it must be some cruel joke. Belial is tempted to decline, just to see what kind of expression Sandalphon would make, and yet… 

 

Something within him stirs. Excitement perhaps, because for the first time he is allowed to make his own decisions, having been dismissed with Lucillius’ last words. Loving words, wishing him a new life, a better life, no matter how cold they had been. 

 

Finally, Belial reaches forward with conviction and grasps Sandalphon’s hand, swearing his life to a new purpose with a grin on his lips.

  
  
  



End file.
